


The One Without The Helmet

by ActualHurry



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 08:36:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16489271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ActualHurry/pseuds/ActualHurry
Summary: Drifter helps Shin blow off some steam.(Takes place pre-reveal of the Renegade as Shin.)





	The One Without The Helmet

**Author's Note:**

> This was intended to be a Drifter-gets-tied-up-by-Shin fic, but that'll have to wait.

Quick. That was all Shin had time for, was quick. He wasn’t in the business of being a liar, especially not to himself, but all he intended on doing here at the Tower during the dead of night was to get some info and book it across the system. It became an echo in his head: _quick quick quick_. No time for small talk, not that he ever tried for it. No time for…anything else, either. Time was growing short, and he needed to hunt.

The Drifter had a way of causing things to spin out of his control, though. Always had.

“Hey there, friend,” Drifter greeted as Shin ducked beneath the gate, then raised his brows when Shin shoved the gate closed completely. “Ooh. You’re pissier than usual. Got a great outlet for you, if you’re lookin’...”

“No Gambit.”

Drifter grinned, all teeth. “Wasn’t talkin’ about Gambit.”

And it surprised him so damn much that Shin actually thought about it, which was the only opening that Drifter needed.

“You shut and locked my front door,” he continued, sounding amused. “Don’t tell me I’m jumpin’ to conclusions when you’ve gone and made me close up shop.”

“I’m not here to get in your pants,” Shin replied, his tongue finally untied. “Needed to talk.”

Drifter waltzed closer, flicked Shin’s chest lightly, and smiled. “You can multitask.”

Shin pointedly did not consider the weakness of his own willpower as he stripped down, and he absolutely didn’t think about how the impatient, restless energy he had today was apparently enough to rev Drifter’s engine. It was good to know, though. Good to keep in mind for later.

Their grabbing hands could’ve been lusting or cruel to match their frantic, frustrated motions, mutual at every turn. It was always a game at first, a little bit of a struggle as they parsed out what the other wanted and tried to avoid a compromise. They made it to the bed – a first! – tucked away in the back corner of the alley, out of sight from the main path (but not out of earshot); Shin won out with a well-timed reversal, grinding down against Drifter and feeling him surrender by sliding wet fingers into Shin’s ass. _Good,_ he thought, then _good_ and _better_ and _best_ when Drifter pushed his cock inside of him and let Shin sink down halfway to meet him.

Was a damn nice feeling, being full like this, just letting himself roll his hips as he liked while Drifter just _let_ him. This’d do too, all this on its own. Shin got a hand on his own dick, fucking down onto Drifter’s. It’d happened all quick enough that Drifter hadn’t gotten a snarky word in edgewise.

Not that he wasn’t obviously going to ruin it at the first chance –

“What’d you wanna talk about?” Drifter asked him, only a little breathless.

He wanted to demand, _you were_ serious _about multitasking?_ but didn’t want to bother with the response that’d come after. “Later,” Shin insisted, and moved himself up and down again, letting pleasure shiver up his back.

“Thought you were,” another rise and fall, and Drifter hissed inward, “a man on a mission today.”

If he told Drifter that this sorry excuse for dirty talk was killing his libido, then Shin knew he’d shut up. But he didn’t want to risk stopping, was too far gone into it to even think of that, and so he sped up the pace instead, until he was choking back his sounds and keeping hands fisted in the sheets on either side of Drifter. Not much longer, he was almost there, dick dripping with how damn close he was, and then Drifter went and flipped them over.

It happened in a blink. One minute Shin was riding him, the next he was face down in Drifter’s tangled, messy sheets. There was a pillow against the front of his helmet, obscuring his vision entirely. He glared at it.

“You’re fuckin’ kidding me,” he grated out, only to stop short as Drifter fucked into him again. “– Keep goin’.”

“Anybody ever tell you you’re a princess, _princess_?” Drifter asked with obvious bemusement behind him, and Shin almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it. He was too dizzy with want to do much more than move into every thrust, eyes shut tight and body more than welcoming.

Drifter’s hands had been gripping eagerly at Shin’s hips, holding him in place so he didn’t slide too far, but he seemed to get a better idea and wrapped fingers ‘round the nape of Shin’s neck, nestled his hold there instead. He pushed Shin’s head down, made him bow deep with his ass still up, and Shin would’ve been lying if he said it wasn’t doing something for him. He kept his breaths even, kept his helmet muted through every one of Drifter’s thrusts into him, needy heat pooling in his stomach – but he felt Drifter toy at the clasp holding the helmet on, and that was what caught his lungs tight.

“Fuck’re you doing now?” Shin snapped, turning his head to the side as if he’d be able to see at this angle.

“Why don’t y’let me worry about that?” Drifter asked idly, flicking the clasp undone. Shin tried to wriggle around in protest, only for Drifter’s thumb and index finger to dig deep into either side of his neck. “Hey, hey, hey. I won’t peek.”

Shin didn’t appreciate the coaxing any more than he appreciated Drifter’s stalled movements. He braced his knees on the shoddy mattress and shoved himself back on Drifter’s cock, rewarded with a bitten-off noise for his efforts. “Your word ain’t worth shit,” he said, bristling despite his actions.

Drifter stroked his hand slowly down Shin’s spine once and then again. Would’ve been soothing, if it’d been anyone else. “Then keep your face in the pillow.”

Part of him was angry at Drifter. The other part was angry at himself for shying away from it so hard. Must make him look sensitive as all hell, but there wasn’t much of a choice in it. It was keep the helmet on or risk his identity.

Drifter started rocking his hips again somewhere between the pause in their words and Shin’s deliberation, little, easy motions that didn’t do much for Shin’s simmering arousal. But it was distracting enough that Shin went with it, grabbing sheets tight and trying for more, only for Drifter to set an even slower pace. Biting his tongue so hard he tasted copper, Shin aimed for patience and lost out when Drifter started humming, as if totally unbothered.

“I don’t come here for slow,” Shin shot back at him, only to get his head pushed further into the bed.

“Beg to differ,” drawled Drifter. “You come here plenty.”

Buzzing with irritation, Shin threw a hand up himself to finish undoing the clasps keeping the helmet in place, his angry heartbeat loud in his ears. Bitterness begged him not to give in but want demanded otherwise; Drifter laughed and Shin lit up, flinging the helmet back at him and shoving his face right into the pillow. The helmet made a great clatter as it hit what sounded like a wall and then tumbled down onto the floor, having flown past its mark. Possibly, it was the only shot Shin had ever missed. Surely it was the most important of ‘em.

“I’ll shoot your eyes out your damn head,” Shin told him darkly, his face angled just enough to get the words out.

“ _Easy_.” Drifter moved his hand from Shin’s neck to his head, then grabbed his hair tight and gave an experimental tug. “That wasn’t so difficult now, was it?”

“Your word’s worthl – ah, _fuck_.”

Shin stopped complaining when Drifter picked up the pace, satisfied in one way even if not in another. He panted into the thin, musty cloth of the pillow, running out of air faster and faster with every little (mostly silenced) gasp. He kept his face buried, even when his lungs started burning, _especially_ when Drifter curled over and against him, his front against the arc of Shin’s back.

“Stubborn ass,” Drifter muttered, twisting fingers harder into Shin’s scalp. Shin nearly bit his tongue off to stifle his moan. “But hell – maybe you’re not much of a princess if you like it this rough.” He sounded not at all surprised, though he was more than indulgent as he kept fucking into Shin.

“Just – don’t – _stop_ ,” Shin growled, reaching back to grab at Drifter’s thigh with a hand that forgot how to properly grip about seven thrusts ago. His other hand moved between his legs to fist his cock, spreading precum down the length and stroking fast in time with Drifter’s rhythm.

Drifter yanked his hair up, pulling his head high out of the pillow, and Shin came blindingly hard with a sharp hiss and a long shudder. Some barely-conscious, still spiteful part of him rejoiced in the fact that he’d spilled all over Drifter’s sheets, which had been in a sad enough state already. But most of him was recovering in deep, shivering breaths, trying to keep himself from being shoved up further on the bed as Drifter continued.

Shin cursed when Drifter pulled out suddenly, then grimaced in lazy irritation when wet warmth splattered across his back. All at once, Drifter let go of his hair and Shin smacked his face into the pillow again with something damn near whiplash.

He felt the bed dip violently as he assumed Drifter flopped down into it. “You’re just gonna stay that way, huh,” Drifter mused from somewhere next to him.

“Helmet,” Shin coolly requested into the pillow, then changed his mind. “Towel.” After a minute of feeling Drifter rustle around, he felt himself get wiped down. “Did you just use your dirty fuckin’ sheets?”

“Why don'tcha look and find out.”

Shin didn’t say a thing, he just turned on over to face the other direction in preparation to make a grab for his helmet. Sure, he could have his Ghost transmat another on over, but he mentally shied away from asking anything of his Ghost after what he’d just done. Wasn’t exactly shame burning in the back of his throat. Nearly, though.

Drifter beat him to the punch, depositing the helmet he’d thrown against Shin’s back. “You’re gonna look like an idiot, only wearin’ that ‘n nothin’ else. So go on, do it. Need myself a laugh.”

“I’m not stickin’ around,” Shin said, even as he reached behind himself to grab the helmet. He put it on over his head, clicking it secure. Once he got himself in order, he sat up and looked over at Drifter to see him stretched out in sated relaxation with a little smile on his face. There were few things that grated on Shin harder than how obviously smug he was after he got what he wanted.

Drifter must have sensed Shin staring at him, because he slowly rolled his eyes over to him, as if he could hardly be bothered to exert the energy. “Thought you needed something from me. Unless _that_ was that somethin’.”

“It wasn’t.”

“So.” Drifter clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Stay awhile, pal.”

Shin never did get the information he’d come for, and he left only as the sun rose over the horizon.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.


End file.
